


A Small Hitch (In Getting Hitched)

by AndIMustMask



Category: Homestuck
Genre: F/F, Gender Bender, Political Marriage
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-15
Updated: 2017-12-27
Packaged: 2018-06-02 10:04:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6562117
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AndIMustMask/pseuds/AndIMustMask
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The pair you two must have made; staring in opposite directions, both fiddling with rings that felt alien and constricting on your fingers.</p><p>But that has passed. Now you find yourself faced with a more pressing matter: consummating your marriage, and your lack of certain <i>necessary equipment</i> to do so.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

_It's been three weeks since your wedding. A farce really, since you had never so much as seen your blushing bride before the event. The two of you stood in the chapel for the crowd to gawk at; She in an extravagant dress and you in your silks and coats, both looking anywhere but at the creature in front of you._

_You hadn't so much as heard her name before you were required to parrot it back to the priest with your vows, and too-soon you exchanged a reluctant kiss and were seated together to watch the festivities unfold. 'In celebration of your union' they had toasted, but you were hardly more than pawns in a game played by those with far deeper coffers than yourself._

_The pair you two must have made; staring in opposite directions, both fiddling with rings that felt alien and constricting on your fingers._

But that has passed. Now you find yourself faced with a more pressing matter: consummating your marriage, and your lack of certain _necessary equipment_ to do so.

Of course she doesn't know this. Likewise, you're in no positon to tell her, since the alliance of your two people literally hinges upon your sustained relationship.

While you've managed to avoid the subject thus far through a combination of feigned illness, parties, extended hunts and tours of your lands and an opposing sleep schedule, you are very quickly running out of guests as they return to their own affairs after the festivities; people are also beginning to _talk_ , because while a certain level of reluctance is understandable given your... _differences_ , most would expect you to have at least made an effort in that field.

Though the differences you've found so far are mostly superficial--while your education on Alternian biology showed you that there a a great deal of biological differences between you, she adheres to a human standard of beauty; with her dark hair cut neck-length and styled excellently, her willowy frame and calm demeanor giving her an almost ethereal air that is only exacerbated by the presence of her horns. Her breasts and hips are of middling size, and her meticulous grooming habits leave her with nary a hair out of place any time you encounter her.

The only imperfection you can find in her appearance is that her left horn is mismatched, ending with a barb rather than the curved point of her right, which is rather petty to consider at best.

You don't catch what she's saying while you're entertaining this thought. You're certain the alcohol buzzing through you isn't helping either.

"Hmm?"

"--Am I so repulsive?" She sets her fork back in its place as she stands, her chair scraping against the floor. "Can't you _pretend_ at civility towards me for an evening? Will you not speak to me beyond terse greetings? I know you're avoiding me, and--" She stops, her eyes shimmering in the room's low light with hurt etched into her face.

At a loss for words yourself, she takes your silence as an affirmation. A tic works at her jaw and she stalks out of the room, leaving you sitting alone wondering what had changed the topic so suddenly.

You down your wine and make to follow her.

\- - - - - - - - - -

You _hate_ this place.

After storming out from the mealchambers you broke into a run, quickly finding yourself lost after rounding several corners and hallways with swimming eyes. Why must this bother you so much? You knew when you were told of your arrangement that this wouldn't be pleasant.

In the perigrees as the ceremony approached you prepared yourself to be reviled by the humans, or put on display as some sort of domesticated prize of the one you were paired with, but to be shunned completely?

Initially when your new partner made no flushed advances on you after the ceremony, you felt relieved.

That human tradition dictated the freshly wed _mate_ to seal their ceremonial union was barbaric and made you queasy to even consider, moreso when you learned the ages that some human lusii deemed their wards fit for such an act.

You briefly entertained the thought that perhaps this human was simply more sensible before the following weeks had given you only piercing stares and clinical silence.

It hurt more than the harsh words you were expecting.

Taking a moment to stop and wipe your eyes, you try to get your bearings. Unfortunately all of the walls in this manor are the same cold stone, lined with the same thick carpets and dramatic tapestries to unsuccessfully keep out the draft.

It was another thing that you disliked about the building; there was no _soul_ in this place. Everything was cold and empty here, though you suppose that was fitting given it's main occupant.

You're lucky enough to find a servant--a young, dark-haired woman of your kind--exiting one of the rooms and get proper directions to make your way back to the main hall, and then to your chambers.

\- - - - - - - - - -

It seems that Kanaya is very quick on her feet. You've been attempting to find her and apologize, but she's nowhere to be found.

After a few more minutes of searching you give up, letting this incident go onto the growing pile of misunderstandings that have been springing up between you of late (not that you've been helping any).

You quash a pang of self-disgust and decide to head to the baths; A soak and chance to relax will help take your mind off of things for now.

\- - - - - - - - - -

"GET. _OUT._ " He spits between clenched teeth, turned squarely away from you. The anger in his voice is shocking. After you had time to settle yourself in your chambers, you decided to take a bath to help clear the funk that had fallen over you.

Now you stand outside the doorway to the bath, face bright with shame. To run into him again in such a vulnerable position and to be ordered out like that cut deep.

Before you can continue that line of thought you're tackled bodily into the antechamber (you most certainly did not make a surprised noise resembling a featherbeast). Your first instinct is to lash out at the attacker, and your claws only catch air as you swipe up from your position on the floor.

You continue frantically for a few seconds more before you recognize that someone is speaking.

"--Kanaya! Oh good you've stopped."

Taking a moment to calm yourself you twist to view your would-be attacker, finding Briar (your "husband", using human terms) sitting on your waist, breathing hard and eyeing your hands warily. He was also wearing little more than a towel.

"Get off of me." You see him consider it for a second, before those lavender eyes swivel back to your face.

He swallows, "No, I don't think I will." You gape slightly at the impropriety before he continues, "We need to talk."

"...Must we speak on the floor?" _and in so little clothing?_

\- - - - - - - - - - -

A flush creeps up your neck. You hadn't intended to end up in this position. When you moved to follow her and apologize, you didn't realize she'd stopped outside the door and collided with her back. The two of you fell into a heap, and the following seconds had been a frantic series of swipes from her that you only barely avoided (you file that trait away to avoid later). You swallow past the sudden lump in your throat, "Yes."

"Why?"

"Because I don't want you running off while I'm speaking, and from here it is difficult for me to get up to do the same." This was certainly true with your lags tangled in hers, and you're still berating yourself for doing something so foolish as pulling her aside here to begin with.

"I could simply throw you, you know."

"Yes, but you won't, since you seem the accommodating sort, I don't mean you any harm." Her eyes narrow at you, but she doesn't comment.

Her face becomes a blank mask. "Speak then."

 _Very well._ You take a breath to steel yourself, "To begin with, I must apologize." She has a brief flash of surprise, "It seems I've made a terrible mess of things, which I hope to correct somewhat."

"Foremost, while I _have_ been avoiding you, it isn't for the reason you suspect. I certainly don't believe you unattractive--in fact, should I be so forward, I would say that you are just the opposite."

You can see Kanaya grow immediately uncomfortable. "Then why have you--I mean, you've never made any indication of..."

You cut her off, "That is a rather _sensitive_ issue, and wholly unrelated to you." You can see the hurt at your quick dismissal, "Also, I'm... afraid I've misled you."

"How so?" Her face hardens, eyes guarded and body tense.

You breathe out and pause, trying to find the proper words to explain.

"You're aware this marriage is of great political importance, correct?"

She gives a short nod and you continue, "I was chosen from the various lesser noble houses for this arrangement largely by accident. You see, 'Briar' is a name I use to follow my various... _interests_ , without arousing undue suspicion. It was an alias posed as dame Lalonde's nephew, visiting from his academy studies."

"So you're not--"

"Oh no, I'm still of noble house and blood. When my mother noticed the name on the list of bachelors, she recommended it. No doubt thinking it _amusing_ in her drunken haze."

You can see she doesn't understand, "Then who are you really?"

"My name is _Rose_ Lalonde."

\- - - - - - - - - -

Briar--or Rose, apparently--stops talking, giving you a moment to take in what he'd just said. "Rose seems a rather feminine name, if I might say?"

"Quite." You see the slightest quirk of his lip towards a smile before it sinks in that his voice has risen from it's normal husky tone.

Oh.

_OH._


	2. Chapter 2

Kanaya's eyes boggle before she composes herself, clearing her throat, "That, um, certainly clarifies some things."

"Yes." Your face must resemble a pyre at this point--the heat in it certainly feels like one.

"So that is why--"

"Yes."

"...Ah."

The silence that follows is deafening. Awkwardly, Rose coughs and disentangles from you to retreat back into the baths with a few words, leaving you sitting on the floor of the antechamber completely dumbfounded. You redress and return to your quarters, thoughts of a bath gone for now.

 _So your human husband is a female_. This is mildly disconcerting, since the only schoolfeeding you've had on humans is smatterings of history and their societal structure and chain of command, as well the male's anatomy (mostly to be mentally prepared for the _striking_ differences between your kind during the human's post-union mating tradition), and even then it was mostly on the various weaknesses of their form, since much of the information given was extracted via prisoners of war by Investerrigators, or vivisection and autopsy by the imperial Visceranalysts and Necroproctors, respectively.

You know that humans are dimorphic--as are alternians, though that is circumvented by your kind's reproductive practices--and your personal observation has shown that human females' acid sacs are also more readily apparent (another similarity), but are largely in the proverbial day for much else. 

It also removes the possibility of flushed advances from your partner as well--you had learned second-hand of the humans' inability to become romantically involved with the same gender through an acquaintance's experience.

 _OH MY GOD WHAT EVEN_ IS _A HOMOSEXUAL ANYWAY?_

You rather miss his abrasive nature. Yet another regret in coming here you suppose.

At least there isn't any pressure to form any quadrants; since humans are monogamous, your "duties" here involved a clause precluding you from the imperial drones' _services_ \--you received a small implant in your arm that apparently marks you as another drone, removing you from their perception entirely.

_You had only realized much later that this also branded you as a genetic dead-end to your people. That the Maryam line would end with you due to random chance was_

You turn your mind away from the subject, instead focusing on the earlier encounter with "Briar".

_...in fact, should I be so forward, I would say that you are just the opposite._

How strange.

\- - - - -

It surprises you to notice just how much time the two of you spend together of late; be it reading, or knitting (though you prefer the loom yourself), or sitting at the dais whispering humorous observations of your guests or staff which Rose refers to as "people-watching".

Once her secret had been revealed to you, she became much more relaxed, if that is the proper word for it. The silences and stares continue, but you've come to find that this is a common practise for her.

The staff appears to have noticed the change as well, retreating quickly when you're together with knowing looks and small smiles.

Even the occasional visitors began making assumptions--sometimes out loud if they surpassed their tolerance to whatever soporific they were drinking that evening. Rose simply stared into her glass with a sheepish smile that didn't meet her eyes.

_"Trying to correct their assumptions only makes them more sure of it." She had replied when you raised the subject, "So, I simply let them provide my cover for me."_

\- - - - -

It was a few weeks after The Reveal as you've come to call it. During one of the many human holiday celebrations (she had called it a "ball", which puzzled you) that Rose kissed your hand and invited you to dance, ever playing the part of your faithful husband.

Thankfully your schoolfeeding on human customs included formal dance. You think those present were quite surprised.

\- - - - -

Rose was shocked to learn that you preferred to design and sew your wardrobe yourself--apparently many human girls weren't allowed to pursue such hobbies; while working lace (and knitting if you weren't skilled enough for the former) were acceptable, working the loom and weaving were a craftsman's trade, and therefore unladylike. You think that is silly and say as much.

"I agree, but there's little one person can do to change it. Young nobles are raised with the expectation of being traded away--bartered like horses between families to secure their holdings and lineage. Though boys are in a similar boat, girls have the hardest time of things, since learning skills to support oneself is 'unattractive', and breaking off a marriage simply isn't done. I had to take great pains to be able to educate myself without suspicion."

The open disgust in her tone was comforting.

\- - - - -

On a day called "Easter"--that you gather involves a giant hopbeast of some sort--a perigree later, she gave you a peck on your cheek as she bade farewell to the party for the evening.

Your blush shifted from surprise to embarrassment at the guests' chuckles.

\- - - - -

Weeks later she spent the entire day in a ~~garish~~ dress, hanging off of you and doting shamelessly as you watched the plays and parades in the town square.

You were dumbstruck when she was met with only hoots and laughter by her guests and subjects, and horrified to see her discard her cover so completely. You only learned (after some explanation) that it was "All-fool's day", and was meant to be a ruse for entertainment's sake.

 _"That it's true and they don't realize it only makes the deception sweeter. The look on_ your _face was a sight as well." Though she wore only the smallest of smiles, you felt it was genuine._

\- - - - -

Alas, it seems all good things must come to an end. Rose has been in a foul mood of late--moreso than during the height of her human menstrual cycle (which is still alien to you, beyond that she changes mood with alarming speed and has a seemingly endless supply of exotic sweets stored away _somewhere_ ).

She will not tell you the cause.

\- - - - -

It's only after her custodian's coach arrives that you know why.

To say that Rose and her ancestor-slash-guardian do not get along is an understatement, and that is all there is to say on the matter.

\- - - - -

Rose's dark mood continues even after her "mother"'s departure, which is strange--why would you be upset about someone leaving when you are trying to drive them away in the first place?

\- - - - -

She kissed you yesterday. In the study after an afternoon entertaining a visitor from House Strider (her... cousin? You're unsure if that is the correct term). Your initial pang of jealousy evaporated upon noticing the ease the two of them fell into bantering and catching up. While you had _issues_ in the past regarding that quadrant yourself, you would never think to deprive someone of time with their moirail--or whatever the human equivalent is, if they have a word for it.

You could smell soporifics on her as she took her seat by the fire, patting the arm of it's twin beside it for you to join her. The two of you spent a half-hour reading and knitting, respectively, before she motioned and asked you to double-check her work. When you sat up to peer across her chair for a closer look and she just sort of leaned in, softly pressing her lips to yours.

A moment later she seemed to realize what she was doing, flinching back and excusing herself, leaving you stunned as she all but bolted from the room.

This morning she spoke to you as if nothing had happened the night previous (humans are known to forget things done or said while heavily intoxicated) leaving you unsure of whether to bring it up.

You choose to err on the side of caution.

\- - - - - - - - - -

It's been almost a week since you kissed Kanaya. Just remembering it makes you flush with embarrassment; that was supposed to have stayed very _firmly_ in your head, not actually acted on. You'll need to avoid drinking so heavily if you wish to avoid such mishaps in the future.

Almost on cue, a small voice pipes up in your head, _And if you acted on these_ deviant _fantasies of yours? If she accepted you?_

Regardless, she thankfully seems to believe you were too drunk (you were) and hasn't pressed the issue. You will have to make sure to control yourself better in the future.

\- - - - - - - - - -

"Were you a man one might think you were flirting with me." You expected a smirk and further banter from her, as is usual for the verbal dance you two go through in place of more pedestrian conversation, but only receive a sigh instead.

"Kanaya, I _was_ flirting with you."

Your eyebrows shot up fast enough that you're not entirely certain they're attached to your face anymore.

\- - - - - - - - - -

(a week previous)

"It sounds like--and this is just the humble opinion of your lifelong friend here--you _might_ have a crush on your wife. A shocking concept, I know." Dave takes a short swig of his drink (something with apples, you forget the proper name). He weathers your glare as stoic as ever.

"Yes strider, I am attracted to my wife. That happens to be exactly the problem."

He tilts his head slightly, hand on his chin. "I'm not seeing it. I mean you're hardly the first wake one morning to realize you enjoy people of the feminine persuasion--" He continues before you can cut in, "--even in a situation as ironic as yours."

You continue to glower over your mead, but Dave is having none of it; "It's not like trolls make a big deal out of that anyway."

That stops you. "Elaborate, strider."

He ignores your tone. "Most Alternians are less concerned with one's tackle and more with the willingness to fish."

"Right. And how, perchance, did you come across this morsel of information?"

"I actually _talk_ to them, for one. It's hardly a secret, bro--with the way their relationships work it's kind of required."

"And I am to assume this isn't some elaborate jest, then?" You deadpan at him.

He flinches back, clutching his chest animatedly. "You wound me, friend. I happen to have it on very good authority that this information is legit."

"And whose authority would--"

He just gives you a ‘really, man? _really?_ ’ look. 

_Right. Wife._ "And how is your bride faring?" Last you spoke with him, he had sulked and referred to her as 'the spooky spirit broad'. 

He shrugs, "About as well as one could expect--there was a brief fling with a stablehand, but that seems to have worked itself out rather harmlessly. Since then it's as if she's an entirely different person; exploring the grounds, questioning the staff on things she's 'missed', and digging--merciful gods does she enjoy digging for some reason. Not to mention I've had to start coming up with excuses with how _active_ she's been of late." Despite his complaints you see he looks quite pleased with himself.

You're taken aback at the casual mention of adultery, but you don't press the matter. "What of Egbert? I recall you passed through Northspire to get here."

Dave pauses, trying to properly word his response, "John is well, i suppose. The two of them seem to keep their distance for the most part. Then again being married to the heiress--and not even the nice one--would be _trying_ , to say the least. Though the birds tell me that the both of them have taken a consort." 

"Oh? Do tell." 

"A rather crabby lowblooded fellow--used to be a guard, I believe. I didn't catch his name."

"He must be quite secretive to keep his name from you. The other?" The strider house was well known for their connections--even in the alternian empire it was difficult to keep information from them.

"There’s just the one."

Your eyebrows shoot up, ignoring your commands that they resettle themselves. You certainly hadn't expected John to turn to men (or anyone for that matter; he was completely uninterested in the topic of romance whenever the two of you spoke of it).


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For those new and returning, remember! Ten dashes is a change in POV, five dashes is a change in time/location (but NOT a change in pov), and two dashes is a game in the mario kart series, and wholly unrelated to this work.

_You are going to kiss her tonight._

_You're_ going to--

A small prick in your side causes you to hiss lightly, putting your tailor immediately on guard. A small 'it's nothing' and the little brown-haired man resumes his work.

Your mother is hosting a ball for the royal family's procession, and _naturally_ it falls to you and your ~~breathtaking~~ ~~exquisite~~ blushing bride to appear at her side for the festivities.

The urge has lingered since your lapse in control that night in the study (and to be painfully honest, a good time before), but the desire to kiss Kanaya has been building steadily as you spend more and more time together of late. You don't wish to avoid her--as you've seen how she worries, and hurting her is the farthest thing from your mind. You're not sure that separation would help this growing frustration anyway.

So, you've given up on whinging and fretting over whether she will return your affections. You're just going to find a quiet moment, press your lips to hers, and hope.

~~You're terrified.~~

You're terrified.

At least John will be pleasant company.

\- - - - - - - - - -

Rose is troubled by something, and she will not tell you what.

She has been terse and reserved of late--moreso than usual, anyway. You were worried that she was falling ill, and expressed as such, until she very clearly explained that no, that was not the case. _"Not that I'm averse to your attentions"_ she had added with what for her might be described as a roguish grin, and you quashed your blush by reminding yourself that Rose had simply taken up harmless flirting as her most recent method of attempting to burrow under your hide. It was uncannily effective.

As usual, you ignore the twinge in your vascular pump as it arises almost on cue whenever your thoughts wander to Rose.

Returning to your point. By your experience, and taking Rose at her word (though a dubious endeavor at times) that she is not ill, you can find only one answer as to her troubled demeanor: 

Rose has flushed affections towards someone. 

It hurts to think about, but you're not surprised. You've seen the signs before, and you suppose that she is 'near that age' by human terms. The same could be said about yourself, were you not so fixated on your Human Husband.

The question is: who is it?

\- - - - -

Alright you admit it, you might _occasionally_ slip down to the kitchens in the night and have a small snack from time to time. While the constant parties and banquets after your marriage were fine while they lasted, the usual three daytime meals for humans isn't really enough for an alternian's physiology.

"So _you're_ the one who swept my little prickly pear off his feet." You hastily look up from your meal to find David, Rose's... human moirail? Cousin, you remember--leaning in the doorway, head cocked slightly and arms crossed. He continues, "We haven't gotten the chance to speak properly yet, have we?"

"We haven't." You motion across the small table for him to take a seat, returning to your grubloaf. He strides across the room to sit as you smile at your little internal joke. "I'm surprised you came looking for me at this hour." Having to sleep less than humans and meant that despite your diurnal schedule, you tended to stay awake far later into the night than even most of the servants. "I hope you weren't searching long?"

He shrugs lightly, "First place I looked, actually." He answers your raised eyebrow with, "I would find Aradia in the kitchens or the storerooms most of the time as well. Speaking with the cooks, enjoying the company, having seconds or thirds after a meal--you know I'm surprised alternians aren't larger, the way you seem to put it away."

David then continues on a tangent about giant trolls and cooks and fires that you don't really understand enough about to care about, so you interject with "Might I ask what sent you after me, Viscount Strider?"

"--Just Dave, please. My brother's the one with the interest politics, and I'm more than fine leaving it to him." You nod slightly and he continues, "I'm just curious to meet my favorite cousin's new bride properly. See how you're faring with the whole 'stranded in alien territory' thing."

You chuckle, "Better than some. From what I've heard, Dame Megido has had quite an adjustment phase."

"That's Dame _Strider_ , now, but yes--Do you know her?" 

"She and I shared a mutual friend." You don't add that not being in contact with many of your old friends and acquaintances is one of the struggles you face here, but Dave nods almost imperceptibly in what you guess might be understanding. You're getting better at deciphering masks, you think.

"She's an odd one. To be honest I'm not sure what I should do with her--besides the obvious."

It takes a moment longer than you'd like to catch his meaning, and almost choke on your food when you do. You wave off his almost instant lunge for water as you recover.

"Didn't mean to surprise you there."

"It's fine." You take a drink from your cup to help ease the coughing.

"So. You two gone at it yet?" 

And now you're choking on your drink.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wait, a change of scenery is supposed to be _good_ for you?
> 
> ...Oh.

The moment you were free of the near-endless ceremony that simply _must_ be stood upon, leaned upon, and otherwise lazily draped over every little thing any time you meet someone, you closed the doors behind you, turned and threw your arms wide.

"Briar, it's been ages!" Your friend easily accepts your embrace. Sure, you were the one doing most of the hugging... alright, perhaps _all_ of the hugging--Ahhhh there it is! That small patting on your back. You knew she still cared.

Sticking to that silly false name of hers was sometimes hard to keep up with, but her pretending to be a man meant that such displays of friendly affection weren't seen as at all improper. It outweighs the hassle, you think.

Releasing her you step back, giving her entourage a small nod. They dispersed in fairly short order, be it up to the guest rooms to unpack their mistress' (mistress _es_ you suppose, chuckling inwardly) things, or to to the servants' quarters to prepare for their own stay. "We're almost finished preparing the evening meal, feel free to take time by the fire--you must be cold from your travels!"

It was good timing that you'd met them during your ride, you were looking forward to the warmth yourself. You hope your princess isn't too sour about your little disappearing act when she returns.

\- - - - - - - - - -

"It seems I've taken leave of my manners--you must be Kanaya! The descriptions don't do your beauty justice." The prince bows to you with a small flourish, which you return. He beams at your small smile.

You take the prince in: The young man was tall for a human, despite his age, dressed warmly in his tousled hair was dark loosely framing eyes of a striking shade of blue. From his smile you note an overbite that suits the jovial manner you've seen so far.

Were he alternian, he could almost be the picture of a young highblood. That sets you to wondering what his horns would look like.

He continues to chatter with Rose, their conversation drifting into the hall as John guides her to a nearby study and the promised fireplace therein.

At the entryway he exchanges his riding boots for slippers and removes his cloak and overcoat, tossing them into a heap on a nearby desk before making his way to the brace next to the fireplace, retrieving and tossing a log into the fire. Once it was arranged and stoked to his liking, John quickly strode across the room, motioning for the two of you to sit while collecting more chairs to set before the fire.

"Expecting company?" Rose asks, settling in.

"I may have left the hunting party a tad early, so the heiress and the rest will likely be returning shortly, if dinner isn't finished by their arrival."

No sooner did he finish speaking then haggard voice came from the door, " _With all respect_ young master, you're a prat. I should leave you hanging out for Meenah to--" The owner of the voice takes a moment to catch his breath, and then takes notice of you two, freezing.

"Please, do continue." Rose replies. He swallows visibly, still stunned at his misstep. When his eyes meet yours, they go wide. You see they've properly filled since you last met, piercing red set under thick eyebrows. It's harder to pick up the specifics with swimming eyes.

"...Kanaya?" his voice was very small.

\- - - - - - - - - -

The room falls silent, John and the human girl looking puzzledly between you and Kanaya while you continue to berate yourself.

"Do... you two know each other?"

There's a simultaneous "No" and "Yes" between you and Kanaya. She stares at you, confused.

You quickly turn on your heel and fucking book it out of there with a weak excuse about helping with the heiress' return.

 _Why did you call her_ by name _, you moron! Oh right, because she's one of the few friends you had before all this and haven't seen her in sweeps and couldn't stop yourself--as fucking usual._

_Fuck!_

\- - - - - - - - - -

An awkward silence hangs over the room. Kanaya left for her chambers a few moments ago, begging John's leave. You're not certain how that guard knows Kanaya, but seeing Kanaya on the verge of weeping because of him has sparked a fiery distaste of the troll.

John sighs, "I'd hoped our meeting after so long would be happier, but it seems the mood's been ruined." 

He makes to stand before you stop him, "No, it's been almost a year since we were last able to speak in person. I would be more than happy to catch up with you."

"Are you sure you don't want to comfort your wife before all that?" A half-smile formed when he brought up Kanaya.

You pause. While you're aching to go after her and make sure she's alright, you know too-well that she'll need some time to collect herself. "She might wish for some time alone first, I think."

John hums in understanding, "I'll have to speak with Karkat as well about... whatever that was." He starts to ask about how things have been since your last meeting, but he's cut off as a bell echoes throughout the castle. "And that would be dinner. Seems we're to be interrupted anyway--let's head to the dining hall."

You take a mental note of the guard's name as you exchange small talk on the way. The prince won't be the only one having words with Karkat about Kanaya.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After many moons away, I return with another chapter of that other story that nobody reads.
> 
> I'm feeling like my prose has started to get a little _too_ purple. You be the judges!


	5. Chapter 5

Dinner itself is mercifully uneventful and your mother--also mercifully--is nowhere to be seen. Watching John attend to the other arrivals' bowing and scraping set a tic to his jaw between assurances that it was perfectly alright to be arriving only a day early to a party he didn't really want in the first place. You only recognize it through your experience with the young man, since while you and your cousin may have blank masks down to an art, the prince preferred a more jovial cover for his discomfort. Perhaps the First Heiress occasionally kicking him under the table had something to do with it as well.

For your part you ate quietly, catching snippets of conversation from throughout the hall as you watched the servants weave to and fro between setting food at the expansive tables, tending and carving meat from the spitted animals set over the central firepit, or carrying mulled wine and other refreshments to the seated nobles.

Once the meal was concluded, however, was another matter. A baron in his fourties turned and barreled into one of the drink servers, covering himself in the contents of their tray. The lowblood in question hurriedly attempted to apologize when the man snarled something as he dragged the servant by the tunic. He made it two steps towards the firepit before a sudden, deafening _crack_ erupted at your left. All talk ceased and eyes turned to a now-standing John, his belted hammer now partially embedded in the long table set before the guest thrones on the dais, a look of raw fury aimed at the baron. The man paled, clearing his throat and releasing the troll as if his hand had been bitten, quickly turning and all but storming from the room.

A tense few moments of silence passed before John took a deep breath and, with slight difficulty, pulled the hammer free from the wood and back into the loop at his belt, sitting again. In that time the troll made themself scarce as well, no doubt eager to get away from the gazes of the nobles. Well, that and the firepit. A short while later, he leaned over with a small cough, "Sorry about the table, Briar." You almost crack a smile. He catches it anyway.

\- - - - - - - - - -

You make it to your chambers and the _moment_ you sit down you hear Karkat at the door. There's a sigh (you can't tell whether it's from you or him) as he pauses at the door out of ceremony before letting himself in and quietly locking the door behind him. A breath later, "What the hell was that?"

You can feel a already headache coming on, but you retrieve your parchment and quills anyway, "A rather public display to the contrary of the whole peacetime... thing."

Karkat huffs, "I'd've thrown that damn hammer at him."

"Oh, I wanted to. I didn't want to miss and wind up hitting the other one." A few scratching lines and you've got the start of something resembling an Official Statement. 

"--you're giving that him musclebeasts!?" Karkat's volume jumps as you turn to see him peering over your shoulder.

"Yep." He starts spluttering incoherently, so you ask before he can really boil over, "Do you know what horses are good for, Karkat?" He opens his mouth to snap at you before you continue, "Not a whole lot it turns out. They require a lot of food and water, stables to keep them in, people to ride and care for them, land for them to roam and graze in, and they don't give milk or wool like other livestock."

Karkat leans back a bit, considering it. "And with a few hundred of the house Egbert's finest as a gift, he'd have to make sure they're well taken care of. He can't object or get rid of them without offending the royal family either. That's actually a half-devious plan." 

You shrug, "So far, attacking his purse strings is the best way to make it really stick that we're taking this treaty--"

"--Temporary ceasefire agreement--"

"-- _Peace treaty_ seriously, and without any more public embarrassment than he's inflicted on himself already. So... yeah, horses." You finish up the letter, seal it, set it aside, and stand. "There's also a bit about us swinging by to tour his holdings for a few weeks at some point that's not at all so that we can pressure him some more, but before that..." You've just gotten your arms around Karkat's waist before you notice Meenah in the doorway with a wolfish--or you suppose or her, _sharkish_ grin. How she got past the lock is a mystery.

"Don't mind me bouys." Karkat jumps both figuratively and physically from you at her voice, and the mood's been spoiled.

\- - - - - - - - - -

You know that it's silly to be lingering outside your own quarters, but here you are. The basket in your arms would have been almost comfortably warm against the cold sinking in from every surface had you not taken so long getting here, and also not looming in front of your doorway.

After a few more moments weighing the pros and cons of simply fleeing the castle to become some sort of bridge-dwelling hermit, you open the door.

"I was starting to wonder if you were planning to eat in the hallway." Kanaya mused from her seat at your old writing table. It was almost surreal how well-kept your room was since you moved to the villa, both to escape from your mother's drunken gaze and to solidify your cover once the wedding was decided. Nothing appeared to have been touched aside from your and Kanaya's luggage, though the scent of imported lavender and fresh-laundered fabrics and absence of so much as a mote of dust anywhere spoke otherwise. 

Your mother was always one for keeping up the appearance of sentimentality.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It occurs to me that i need to pay more attention to the who/what/when/where/why rule, but I cannot be assed. damn shame, that.

**Author's Note:**

> Something I've been banging together off and on for a while, plagued by my sudden and confusing changes of POV.


End file.
